Kennedy Tragedy Is Latest Intrusion on Quaintness of Martha’s Vineyard

EDGARTOWN, Mass. — Long before John F. Kennedy Jr.’s plane went down off the southwest coast of the island, people on Martha’s Vineyard were all too familiar with heart-wrenching search-and-rescue efforts.

They also knew the attention such catastrophes can bring--and what that can mean for life on an island that is supposed to be an idyllic retreat but is forever battling growth, chicness and other perceived threats to its quaintness.

Long before the remnants of Kennedy’s plane were discovered--and a full century before his uncle Ted’s car plunged into waters on Chappaquiddick--there were shipwrecks. In the days when Vineyard Sound was a freeway for merchant schooners traveling between Boston and New York, the Gay Head lighthouse keeper counted 26,470 passing vessels one year. Many scores never made it--including the “Christina.”

During the winter of 1866, sailing from Brooklyn to Boston with “miscellaneous cargo,” the three-masted schooner struck a shoal in icy, choppy seas. The captain and five seamen climbed the rigging to wait for rescue, but only one crewman was still clinging to the rigging when a whaleboat reached them four days later.

That man, Charles S. Tallman, became a tourist attraction.

Tallman was set up in an octagonal pavilion to sell hot roasted peanuts and curios while telling tales of the “Christina” and how he lost his fingers and toes to frostbite.

Even then, although the Vineyard supported itself through farming and fishing and boating, it was attracting visitors--wealthy Bostonians and revivalist Methodists and African Americans, who were fully welcome in the gingerbread inns on an island one historical pamphlet called “the watering spot of the Atlantic.”

A century and a half later, folks can’t help but wonder--through their grief for the Kennedys and the Bessettes--whether the site at sea where JFK Jr.’s plane crashed will become an “attraction” too, like the bridge where Ted Kennedy lost control of his car 30 years ago, reportedly searching for the ferry to Edgartown from Chappaquiddick, the small island east of here.

A place that prided itself on leaving the Kennedys alone, as they visited or summered here for decades, now may have to endure the unwelcome renown of being associated, from one tip to another, with that family’s misfortunes.

So sensitive are the issues of visitors and growth, and image and lifestyle, that the story of the plane crash had to share the front page this week of the 153-year-old Vineyard Gazette with a piece on a meeting on “Island troubles” that drew 500 people to the Old Whaling Church here.

One speaker, a Harvard business professor, lamented how people around the world now know of the Vineyard not for the “search for the soft-shell clam,” but for its “parties for the rich and famous.” A summer resident for 74 years drew an ovation by suggesting they try to keep people away by hiring a publicist “to tell the world what’s wrong with the Vineyard.”

The desire to keep others out is especially strong near Gay Head lighthouse, in the town of Aquinnah, which was the center of the Coast Guard and State Police search efforts. The only commercial structures now are a few T-shirt and lobster roll shacks. One summer resident, who could watch the search from his deck, noted how this is the “quiet side of the island,” in contrast with the more touristy Edgartown, where celebrity spottings are standard fare--actor Tom Hanks was among those pouring through the art galleries this week, children in tow.

There were no such sidewalk crowds in Aquinnah--there aren’t sidewalks--but there were more visitors than usual after police finally reopened the beach roads and parking lots.

Guides on the tour buses that stop at a lookout by the scenic cliffs, which are owned by the Wampanoag tribe, changed their commentaries to add recollections of JFK Jr. At the dirt parking lot below, attendant Wilde Whitcomb, 18, the pony-tailed son of a local artist, hoped the looky-loos and mourners, many bringing flowers to the water’s edge, were a fleeting phenomenon. “This is like the last outpost on the island,” he said. “This is going to change that.”

Though Martha’s Vineyard had been growing as a summer spot since World War II, old-timers cite the Chappaquiddick incident as a turning point, bringing attention unmatched by other flurries of fame, whether because of hurricanes, the filming of “Jaws,” some new A-list marriage, President Clinton’s sojourns or the disclosure that he bought Monica S. Lewinsky a souvenir T-shirt at the Black Dog Tavern in Vineyard Haven.

The narrow island (20 miles at its widest) with just a handful of towns and picture-postcard harbors sees its 14,000 population swell to more than 100,000 in the summer. A place that once counted Nathaniel Hawthorne and Daniel Webster among its enthusiasts draws a stunning number of the media elite: the late New York Times columnist James Reston published the Vineyard Gazette on the side for 20 years, before his son took over; former Life magazine editor Ralph Graves moderated Sunday night’s forum on growth; CBS’s Mike Wallace was able to give firsthand accounts of the Kennedys.

“Ted Kennedy put us on the map,” insisted Milton Jeffers, 75, who describes himself as “the last Indian born on Chappaquiddick Island.” Jeffers has lived since 1948 in Edgartown, running a backyard “nuts and bolts” business. “Just a lot more people came. They used to pick pieces of the bridge as souvenirs. It was a rude awakening.” What irks him is how he’s sometimes shooed off the very beaches, now private, where he grew up.

Many people depend on the outsiders for their livelihood, while others--even new arrivals--are resolved to keep things as they were.

Police help by vigorously enforcing speed limits, as low as 20 mph, on the winding, tree-lined roads. One Chicago reporter was stunned when an officer would not let him drive after discovering his license had expired three days earlier. His rental had to be carted off--by a grizzled tow truck driver who had helped pull Kennedy’s car out of the water 30 years ago.

Margaret White was delighted by all the fuss, especially “the helicopter shots of beautiful oceans and beaches” sent throughout the world. White came to the island from Los Angeles to raise a herd of cattle on the estate of Andre Previn. Three years ago, she bought the Hob Knob Inn in Edgartown. “I hope this brings in people,” she said, “and business.”

Then there is Faith Erikson, who has been coming here from Boston every summer for 18 years, this week vacationing with her husband and infant son. She could not get over seeing Tom Hanks four times in one day, but also could not get over the week’s somber news.

“We always thought we’d like to get a house here someday. But this year it’s hard to think of that,” she said. “Not to be overly dramatic, but it feels different this year.”